


Down in the Quarter

by an_unassuming_username



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: 20th Century Fashion Masquerading as Old Money 18th Century French Fashion, AU or Prequel?, Allusions to abuse, Angst, But it's still a series so have fun, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Microfic, New Orleans, Sibling Incest, crawfish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_unassuming_username/pseuds/an_unassuming_username
Summary: Akio and Anthy drift into the Crescent City, circa 1910-1920s. Rules are quietly erected. Promises are broken. Things fall apart in a catastrophic fashion.
Relationships: Himemiya Anthy/Crushing Despair, Himemiya Anthy/Ohtori Akio, Ohtori Akio/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

They stop in a little podunk before they reach the Crescent City. When they go over the arching bridge, the carriage halts in a place where the sidewalks are so broken up that they rise out of the ground in places, like choppy waves in a river of cement. 

Akio rises from his seat in the carriage. His all-white fitted suit steps out as a blood-red button-up with night black slacks. Anthy drifts behind him. Her legs stride forward with an even and feminine restraint. If anyone looked close enough, they might see that her feet never actually touch the ground. 

She and her brother walk side by side in the starless dark of the city's outskirts. Akio burns with ambition. Anthy orbits him, quietly hopeful.


	2. Chapter 2

When they buy out the bar, no one in the saloon asks them where they got the money. Why would they? The two of them shine with the ancient light of old wealth. The tall man beams with easy charisma and when he sits down to speak about his journey, even the walls lean in to listen. 

His girl (no one can tell what she is -- be it a sister, an assistant, a daughter, or a wife) plops prim and proper into the booth across from him. Her demure smile is stuck on like wallpaper. They try not to notice her. All eyes are kept on Akio, who is reclined in the booth as he describes Halley's Comet.

"We kicked up our feet in the Ford one night," he explains, "just to see what it was like. The crickets and bluegrass sang us to sleep. I couldn't recommend it as a replacement for a clean bed, but it was a refreshing treat in between the long trips to and from hotels."

He glances towards a woman in green who has been peeking out over the back of the booth next to him. Her eyes are filled with stars and Akio can't help but puff out his chest as he stretches.

"By chance, I awoke from a dream and as I stood out of the carriage to collect myself, I beheld the comet... such a rare and indescribable pleasure. As if Joyeuse's blade had been set ablaze and in one stroke, cut through the night sky."

Reaching his hand towards a fading light, he grins. 

"In that moment, it was like heaven had shown one of her secrets."

The lightbulb flickers. He draws up to finish his drink and Anthy instantly trades out the emptied glass for a full pint, as if she were beside him in the booth the whole time. She positions herself between Akio and his uncomfortably attentive listener. A chuckle bubbles out of him.

"I wish you were awake to see it, Anthy!" 

She closes her eyes as she forces the corners of her mouth up.

"Ah, I wish so too." She smiles. "Perhaps in another lifetime."

He turns to the flock of men who have congregated near and gestures fondly to them as he stares into her eyes. His pupils are sharp, black pinpricks.

"Dearest Anthy. If God allows it, nothing would make me happier than to be beside you as you see it." 

He returns to his audience.

"To life!" 

They toast as well, "to life!" 

Someone lights a cigar and the rest follow suit. Anthy excuses herself from the room that is now filling with tobacco smoke and walks out of the den. The establishment, she notes, is quite close to the water. If the wrought iron railing had not been put up, someone could flip right over the cliff and drown.

The night sky's patchy smog and timorous stars ripple through the Mississippi River. 

Anthy lingers.


	3. Chapter 3

They start off slow. 

They move with the rhythm of the locals. Time comes easy to them and so they take as much of it as they please. It grates at Anthy. At night, she can feel the impatience roll off of Akio in waves and ripples, depending on how badly the day went.

So many evenings are spent staring at the cream walls of the local inn, marking her seat at the foot of their bed and aching for the vibrance of a garden, the company of an animal... something. Anything. Anyone.

It never comes in the form that she wished for.

They are guests in a plantation dining room. The help's reactions are divided; hurt, confused begging with their eyes and composed glares out of their keepers' sight. Miss Macie, the wife of the absent owner, never notices. 

Akio's fingers deftly crack off a crawfish head. He hands it back to Anthy, who sucks out the spicy-saltwater flesh with as much practiced fragility as a politician's wife. He takes a second to take it in, to savor how well she plays her role for him before directing his attention to the planter. 

"Miss Macie," He asks with a syrupy drawl, "Not to pry, but how them renovations on the west wing doin'?"

"Come tour for yourself!" Macie Green boasts. "Why don't 'cha pass by and git down already? We'd love ya 'round!"

"I might, I might. 'Fraid we gon' find some quarters first."

"Y'ain't got no quarters?! I'm gon' die boy, y'gon' hit it before you an' ya sistah think ta stay?!"

"Not at all Miss Macie, I didn't wanna impose ourselves upon you."

"Pose nothin', getcha bags down tonight!" She claps her hand over Akio's shoulder, strong and motherly. "Me an' the staff? We'll cook y'up some grits, some kolaches, some coffee, Val' come knock y'sistah up in the mornin'!"

"Y'sure? Thas' heaven Miss Macie, gotta be hell to run."

Macie looks away with rolled eyes, feigning humility. She blushes a deep red with pride. 

"Don't fluff me up, boy! Y'said it yaself, is heaven!" She says.

"Must be heaven to live if you're runnin' it."

Miss Macie tisks and swats Akio's knee. 

"This one'll be the death of me." Miss Macie playfully grumbles to her daughter Valerie. Valerie dabs a napkin at the corner of her mouth, a poor imitation of Anthy's feigned indifference.

"I apologize, truly." He smiles with a downcast gaze. They dart over to Val's and he meets her eyes -- he softens his. "It's just an amazing thing... to see a woman hold her own and more 'round these parts."

Akio wear his star-white hair in locs all tucked under his gentleman's hat, save for a few he tactfully positioned to hang around his eyes. It's a new trick -- the young ones swoon at that moody look and the bolder types get so annoyed they may just reach over to sweep them behind his ear. 

Miss Valerie's hand twitches in her lap. He was right to peg her as the type to get caught between both reactions. Her brows are stuck so close together that the muscles above are starting to look like the nubs of newborn horns. The flush though, that roaring fire playing across the middle of her face, cannot deny a thing. Akio leans back comfortably in his chair and wonders how fiercely she'll burn when he puts in real effort.


	4. Chapter 4

Life in the Green house is a tantalizing game. Akio doesn't change a thing about himself, but rather just shifts his attention from charming the room to charming individuals. His ambitions sharpen from foggy snapshots of power to a clear, defined path to form a dominion he could preside over. 

Miss Macie takes to his company like a starving beggar to a meal. In the evenings, they stroll aimlessly through wild rows of sugar cane and rolling fields of indigo. On those walks, Miss Macie coos over her daughter and lets slip too many cute little stories about her. She complains about the help, revealing her biggest pet peeves and the dispositions that drag her down into displeased sullen fits. Eventually, she murmurs that her husband has been away for far too long on a business trip up to South Carolina and goodness, those new mobiles can have trouble but shouldn't he have been back by now or at least sent a letter?

Akio gently smiles and tells Miss Macie that he could've caught a flat, no need to worry. When they part ways, he discretely plucks an indigo flower off its stalk.

Anthy takes up some duties among the help. She can't cook worth a damn, but the crops seem to flower and burst overnight if she so much as looks at them, so it's not as if she's just dead weight. She weeds, she cleans, and at the end of the day, she sleeps in a suite fit for a queen. The help go cold and silent as stone around her as the days trickle on with only her among them receiving such unusual treatment. 

Every other Thursday, Akio shows up to the kitchen to surprise the help when Val and Miss Macie pop out. He brings out oddities he'd collected throughout his travels and waxes poetic about his adventures among the rich as they all break out the good gin and steamed mussels fresh from the river. They pass around one of Akio's antique knives to crack open the shells then chase down the taste with shots and hollers of praise. They think that he's just like them.

It's all well and good until three of the pickers get fed up one day. They corner Anthy under a chaste tree and it almost makes her smile how her hair, her skin, her verdant green blouse, her magic could let her blend right into the orchard if they hadn't already been paying attention to her.

"We bust our hands to keep this place running," The elder of the three says, "And I tell you every day, 'whatever your doing's got your plants choking out our crops', and you just fucking smile like it's a game and don't do shit!"

The plants in question would be the neon purple honeysuckle vines she planted last week. She didn't intend for her makeshift pets to spill out into the harvest... at first. Then she heard the gossip roll in from the other women about how she must've earned her keep in the house. One night, huddled over a near-empty bottle of gin illuminated by the faintest lamp light, someone among the trio claimed to see Anthy's shoes and tights in Mr. Green's bedroom weeks before she and Akio appeared. 

As she had stood in the dark, out of their sight, she was initially pleased that she had made such an impression. It quickly festered into resentful mischief.

Anthy squints against the glare of the sun and looks down at some vines that have curled around the wilted necks of several dying baby corn stalks. Part of her is frankly impressed that her babies could kill a whole corn stalk with such slim vines, let alone several.

She barely feigns a surprised look and looks back up at them with a blank, doe-eyed stare. All three women glare in disbelief.

"Do you like making us look bad, getting us in real trouble?! Do you think we're all just playing here, that this is play pretend and ooh, you're supposed to be the head gardener? Hm?"

Anthy remains passive and quiet. It's not the most diplomatic move, but it's certainly the one that gets results. Her wrist is snatched up into a crushing grip.

"Okay --!"

"Winona, enough already."

Val pops her head down from a nearby tree, clippers in hand and a ladder underfoot. 

Her dirty blonde hair falls out of her haphazard bun in even waves. Still, the rest of her is immaculate -- spotless white dress, perfectly groomed eyebrows scrunched up into an impatient frown, and an untarnished place of authority with which to quell petty grievances.

"You're really gonna act out like this over some damn plants?" Val tuts.

The smaller of the trio steps forward, her face flushed in frustration. 

"Miss Val --"

"Ah ah! If you have such a problem with it, then we'll put Miss Anthy's plants somewhere else. Just take your hands back already." 

The women all stay where they are as the gentle wind rolls through the garden. The grip on Anthy's wrist loosens, finger by finger. The tension does not. 

"See? Is s'at so hard? Now, could y'all get back to the kitchen while I finish up with Miss Anthy here?" Val tucks one of her curls behinds her ear and waves her hand at the trio. 

They leave their hatred in the garden for another time and go to the house without another word.

"Sorry 'bout that," Mutters Val, "But honey, you gotta recognize that the corn stalks can't be messed with like this. Our ladies got jobs to do." 

Val snaps off a glove, goes to her knees, and claws her hand to dig into the soil. She then lifts up the base of Anthy's honeysuckle plant. 

"Goddamn, these roots grew fast." She hisses under her breath. Val lets the plant drop back into place and stares at the dirt with crossed arms as if the earth will tell her where to go from here.

"Can't fit this thing into a pot, the roots are too big..." 

"I have ways of making them fit." Anthy chirps with a smile. "But I did see a lovely patch next to the cotton flowers."

Her eyes dart up to Anthy, puzzled and unamused. Val goes back to glaring holes into the ground with no reply.

"...I'd hate to ask, but would you be partial to usin' the greenhouse?" 

Anthy goes doe-eyed and tilts her head askance. On the inside, she's screaming with glee.

"Greenhouse?" She looks behind her towards the estate. "But is that not also the Green House?"

Val looks her straight in the eyes, hard, and for a second Anthy is afraid that she's made herself known too soon. Instead, Val gets up and puts her pristine left hand on Anthy's shoulder to pull her in close. With their heads close enough to feel her warmth, Val points with her dirt-dusted finger towards the horizon. Something on her smells sickly sweet yet tinged with spice and grass.

"Y'see over near the pond, that lil' house made of glass? That's the greenhouse, there's a nice U-shaped bit of dirt we keep nice and loamy that you can fit your babies in. I was gonna squeeze some tea roses in there, but I guess you can have it since they're not quite comin' up in their pots yet." 

Val lets go. 

"Y'fine with that?" 

Anthy adjusts her glasses and smiles.

"Yes. I hope it's not a burden on you."

Val visibly bristles in spite of herself. She clears her throat and walks away, talking aloud to the air in front of her about how she'll help rehome the honeysuckle. 

As she struts off, Anthy notes the swishing sound of her sensible heels through the wild grass. There wasn't a sound to be heard throughout Anthy and Winona's stalemate, certainly not the metallic snip of branch trimmers. 

Anthy quietly preens, vindicated in knowing the young lady is not as above these kinds of affairs as she'd like to lead on.


	5. Chapter 5

If Anthy isn't entertaining her brother or sleeping, she's in the greenhouse. It's every bit as heavenly as she had hoped from the second she had spotted it. She even gets her hands on Miss Val's aforementioned tea roses and wins a speck of envy from her when the damn things explode into full, perfect blossoms. 

On a whim, Val comes up to Anthy and asks if she can pluck a couple fistfuls of rose hips from Anthy's miracle patch so she could throw them into the afternoon tea. Anthy obliges, keen to have her true dominion over the plants affirmed by Val herself, and gathers them up in her fist to harvest. Val hands her a knife to cut them off. Anthy smiles with tightly shut eyes when she recognizes the gilded hilt. The handle and its jewels are still shaped like they were molded for her grip, but still, Miss Val's foreign touch has made the weapon feel alien to Anthy.

Val grabs her wrist.

"Why are you cutting into the hips?" She scowls.

The sunlight bounces off Anthy's glasses as her smile goes a touch too hard.

"I'm removing the seeds from the flesh, Miss Val." Anthy smiles. "They're quite irritating if you leave them there."

Val opens her mouth wide - "ah..." - and swiftly lets her grip drop.

"Right, right. Smart..." She mutters, frowning with flushed cheeks. 

Anthy simply smiles and she delicately, skillfully fishes out the seeds with the tip of the dagger. She wipes them onto a spare handkerchief before dipping back in with the skill of a surgeon and the carefree disposition of a housewife. The task is done in three minutes. Val decides against letting them dry out in the sun and pushes Anthy to come try it with her.

After the kettle's brewed, once the leaves and fruit have steeped, Val fills her favorite cup up high and drops a couple fresh halves in just for good measure. It takes visible focus for her to lower herself down into her tea chair without spilling a drop. She cranes down to sip it cautiously, as the damn thing is a hair away from overflowing, and lets the taste settle in her mouth before gulping. Her eyes go huge in confusion.

"It tastes like sour raisins." The disappointment in her voice is unmistakable. 

Anthy stirs another dollop of honey into her cup and has her fill. The brew rolls around her tongue and warms her throat. Citrusy, floral, somewhat grassy, and yes, a bit sour to the untrained palate. It brings her back to the humid, spiced air of Burma for barely a moment.

"There's something nostalgic about that taste, isn't there?" Akio says cheerfully. 

Val jumps in her seat. 

"My -- Sorry, I didn't see you there!" Val stammers with a laugh. "Well, yes and no. Never had these things before in my life, but 'nostalgic' does ring a bell when I have a taste of it."

Akio hums in response, leaning 

"What a bittersweet feeling. A childish taste, perhaps?"

"Perhaps."

"Some of the tea ran down your chin." He says. Val flushes instantly with a frown. She raises her hand to wipe away the thin stream, but recoils when Akio makes a noise of disapproval. He plucks a silver satin handkerchief out of his breast pocket and snaps it in the air to straighten it out. Gently, he grasps Val's chin with two fingers and angles her head. She is so transfixed that the heiress hasn't noticed the sudden absence of Anthy, who had already left the room without a word or a sound. And why would she? There was no need to stay and watch. She had done her part.

Anthy hesitates before she's completely left the hallway. On the adjacent wall, there is a mirror that shows Akio and Val in motion. Anthy lingers. 

God, does he love her for that.

"Here. Up a bit more?" 

Val obediently tilts her chin up. 

"This is a bit much now, isn't it?" She grumbles. 

Akio dabs the cloth against the right corner of her mouth. His touch is as light as a breeze.

"You'd smudge your lipstick. I'd hate to see such a cute mouth smudged so carelessly."

"Tch..."

"Just kidding." He smiles. "A bit left, now."

She obeys. Her brows scrunch up together and she stares down at her shoes. Val's eyes slip shut for a fraction of a second. 

Akio looks into the mirror, meets Anthy's eyes, and smiles. 

"Listen," Val says, "about yesterday..." 

Anthy straightens. He didn't mention how the date went afterwards.

Akio delicately swipes the cloth down her neck. It doesn't quite pick up the liquid, but the gentle, feather-like stroke practically causes Val's pupils to blow out. 

"You seem tense."

"Can't help it, really." She mutters. Whatever was supposed to come after dies on her lips.

Akio chuckles.

"So... about yesterday?" 

Miraculously, she remembers to close her mouth. Her eyes are still transfixed on him.

"It's silly the more I think about it. I was just... thinking about daddy."

A mighty storm cloud obscures the sun. The room dims, gravity narrows down to the two of them, and Akio feels a familiar heavy heat settling into his ribs. He hums in a low, satisfied tone to prolong the pause. He wants to soak in the anticipation.

"You're such a dutiful daughter."

"Maybe, but I --"

Akio sweeps the handkerchief across her cheek and cups it, close enough to see the flecks of brown within her murky blue eyes. He softens his gaze and imagines himself in that gallant white cape again without a care in the world. The heat bleeds out into his chest, then into a smile spread soft across his face. She's sitting there, chin up and lips softly parted.

"I..."

Wood creaks and the backdoor to the kitchen clatters open. Akio hears the footsteps and recognizes whose weight it belongs to. 

"Val! Can you come help me?" Miss Green hollers.

Val's eyes fly up and he mirrors her when she jumps back. He glances into the hallway mirror and finds it empty. Anthy fled. 

"I-I'll be a moment," Val rushes out in one shaky breath as she turns away, "Maybe another time."

There's hurried shouts of who got what mixed up and where Val's going and then, with the clang of the door, silence. All that's left is a room full of furniture with some cold, empty nothing. 

Akio reclines back into the chair and sips the rest of the tea Val had forgotten. It's gone cold. He frowns and leaves it in his mouth til it's warm enough to go down. As he sets the cup back down, a glimmer of light catches his eye.

A ray of rainbow sunlight from a crack in the curtains is being reflected by the mirror and onto the tea table. He walks into the hallway, right behind the mouth of the entrance, and hunches over with bent knees to peer at the mirror. He then turns his head and sees that the kitchen is a clear shot from that point. He can even see out the kitchen window to the edge of the garden, where Miss Val and Miss Green are traipsing out to wherever the hell they were needed.

Another door closes, this time from upstairs. Akio smells roses. 

His ribs go warm and heavy again.


	6. Chapter 6

It's a party night and she's gliding her oil-soaked fingers between the tendons in his enormous hands. An immaculate suit is laid out neatly on a chair opposite the bed. He plucks a fruit from the bushel in the bowl and holds it out behind him. 

"Say 'ah,' Anthy?" He coos.

"Ah..."

Akio presses it up to her face, warm fingertips grazing her chin with careless familiarity.

Her small, pink lips close around the flesh and tuck it into her mouth. The fresh grape bursts between her teeth. Akio smiles and eats three in a row.

"Val had quite the surprise yesterday." He says after swallowing.

"Bless her heart, she does seem distractible at times. But we all have our moments, don't we brother?"

She shifts her knees on the bed so she is facing away from the dress on the table -- a plain white thing that more resembles a doily than a woman's garment. Akio hums with an unreadable tone. 

"I must say..." He murmurs, shifting towards her. "I never considered you the type to lose your focus."

Anthy's hands freeze up. She knows where this is headed. Hell, she knew what would happen the second she walked into the room and felt a meaty hand close around her wrist before her body suddenly jerked inside. Still, she holds her breath in anticipation for the fall.

Akio is staring up at her. For the life of her, she can't decipher what the emotion is in his eyes that's dragging her heart down into the pits of guilt. Worry? Disappointment? Perhaps, dare she believe it, a touch of sympathy?

"I know your pain just as deeply as my own, Anthy. You can't hide this from me." 

That firm and attentive pressure in her fingers bleeds right out of her muscles. Both hands drape over Akio's like dead fish over a dock.

"Perhaps I can't."

His hand slides up to cradle hers. 

"Are you afraid that I'll leave you for her?"

"No."

"So you regret this path we've paved together."

Silence.

"Anthy..." He sighs.

He rises to face her.

"Dear sister." Akio gestures somberly over his naked body. "You know this much of me, as you have always known. You and I know where these roads lead, and though the both of us may suffer, there at the end is our eternal happiness."

Anthy stares up at him. Even in the dark, he's huge from the angle she's seated at. He bends down, leaning into her face as his left hand slide up her arms, up her shoulders, up to cup her face in one enormous palm.

"I will never rest until we've regained what we lost. No matter what we may go through to reach it, it will all be worth it in the end. I promise, dear sister."

Akio squeezes her hands, as if to dare her to distrust this solemn pledge or the direction that they are taking together. Of course, she thinks distantly, it's already far too late for doubt. Doubt was never an option, even before the swords. 

She cranes her head up to him.

"Yes, brother." 

Akio hums once more, far less ambiguous than before. The hand which he had used to cupped Anthy's face travels down to her legs, never once leaving her bare skin.

Anthy tries her best to relax so her apprehension isn't visible. She feels his smile drift towards her face and that large hand slides over her tense thigh. It rests there. Knowing. Savoring.

"Later." He says. One part of her relaxes. Another remains locked up.

He leans over her and snatches her dress. She senses that the spell hasn't exactly been broken, but rather just suspended for a yet undefinable amount of time. Akio cocks his head.

"We'll still have to get y'all dolled up in your evenin' dress." Akio sardonically drawls. Anthy smirks.

"Well then, would you do the honors," She says, "And dress your darling sister?"

With raised wrists and closed eyes, Anthy allows Akio to don her in yards of cream-colored lace and cotton. When he pulls the bust over her breasts, he gooses her and pinches a nipple. As quickly as the giggles bubbles up, they die out. 

Anthy twists eyelets of lace between her fingertips and squints at the drab tone. Without any light in the room, the dress seems colorless. Still, she can make out how the layers of lace seem to drape over one another like the petals of a rose and it tugs at a little corner of her girlish heart. Perhaps, she wonders, if it was anything else but white...

"How does it look?" Asks Anthy.

Akio fastens the last button. He smooths down the back.

"It doesn't suit you." Akio murmurs.

"Too demure?"

He swipes away the creases and folds across her arms.

"Too bland. You look best in red." He sighs and hops off the bed to pick up his suit.

In the dark, Anthy imagines a stunning red on the dress. She can see her skin glow set against that rich, exotic color and she almost feels beautiful.

Then she remembers shouting and the clatter of swords. 

"How disappointing." She muses.

Without another word, she rises from her seat to dress Akio. She dutifully pulls the slacks, dress shirt, and jacket onto him with quick precision. He stares at their locked bedroom door.

"Miss Green," Akio says, "Will need some help with the arrangements after we arrive."

"Yes, the refreshments did seem to get away from her."

"Poor woman cares for so many people." He smiles. "I'm just relieved that we've helped ease her burden."

Anthy steps away to give him the space to adjust. Akio flips on a nearby light before preening in the mirror. He sees Anthy in that reflection and chuckles.

"We've made quite a mess, haven't we?" He says, twirling a finger in her matted hair. 

"Thank you brother." She smiles. "I hadn't noticed." 

They both leer at each other in the mirror like two cats that caught canaries. Akio cups a hand over Anthy's shoulder and produces a hairbrush.

"Sit down, now. We can't be too late."

The first brushstroke yanks her head back. She stiffens her neck in anticipation for the next.

"Yes, brother."

Five minutes in, Akio has shed any pretense of brotherly care and lets the brush clatter to the floor in favor of using his hands. In the back of her mind, Anthy knows that the mood is about to descend again. Even so, her mind is back to straddling that grey line between the bliss and agony that often consists of their weekend rendezvous. 

As Akio's fingertips clinically comb through her scalp, she drinks in this moment of intimacy like a dying fish returned to the stream. In her mind, she feels dried hay underneath her seat, the rage of the world outside their door, and the heat of her brother's toned arms radiating all around her. He moves too quickly, too forcefully, and for a split second, one of his nails dig in a little too sharp. It feels like the point of a blade has grazed her scalp.

She's struck with a dark sense of comfort from that.


	7. Chapter 7

Anthy is right on time when she subtly provokes a waitress to slap her into a table. Val straightens up with a sparkle in her eye and trots over to tell someone off, but she falters when she sees Akio rise from his seat in one swift, stone-faced stride. He puts himself between his fallen sister and the five-foot aggressor, who immediately stumbles back. The waitress flees to the kitchen, leaving Akio to pick his sister back up with all the care of an antique collector moving hand spun glass. Val hangs back.

"Poor thing, twisted an ankle..." Akio says. 

"What did y--" Val scrunches her eyes shut before she tries again. "What even happened?" 

"I don't know," Anthy mutters in a daze, "I was just looking for my table and I..."

Akio lifts her up and pats her on the back when she winces. 

"Can you walk if you lean on me?" He asks.

"I think I --" She lets her leg collapse for dramatic effect and sure enough, Val catches her.

"Anthy, c'mon now." Val tisks. "We're gonna have to get you home with that bum leg."

Akio turns to Val and smiles with his eyes at her. He can feel the wheels turning again.

A wrench blows through their plan in the form of Miss Macie, who has barged into the kitchen and begun screaming at the waitress -- the waitress that Val was meant to let loose on and come away so confidently pliant from her performance as The Young Boss in Training that she'd fall right onto Akio's hook. To be interrupted twice in the pursuit of the same target is too much already and he can't stand another night feeling denied.

He stuffs down his indignation and assesses Miss Macie: long suffering, needy Miss Macie. He watches the graceless way she gestures as her eyes scrunch up in anger, the shameful glow of pink bleeding like watercolor through her face, her hunched up shoulders and the trembling in her jaw --

Akio grins. All the tension melts out of him. 

"Ah, s'sweet of her all things considered." He smiles at Val, "God rest her soul, but I wish our mama was half the spitfire she is."

Val's cheeks burn. She glares at the floor.

"S'just too much..." Val grumbles.

"Keep m'sister propped up an' I'll go fetch her 'fore she burns the house down."

Before he's in front of her, Miss Macie's fled from the kitchen. She's pacing in the back room wavering between seething half-shouts at no one in particular and guilty, frightful whispers. 

"Talk to me, Macie."

"Now I - I - ya' sistah -"

"My sistah ain't no part in whatchu laid on that poor server."

"She slapped ya' sistah --"

"And Miss Green, that waitress ain't no older than my little sistah." Akio pleads. "Hell, she couldn't be a day over fifteen at best." 

"I don't care how old she is, she's a workin' girl, she ought to --"

"Macie. It's okay."

All the little microscopic muscles around his eyes have melted into a gaze as soft as Sunday sunshine. Miss Macie clearly feels it, leans in ever so slightly like a flower beginning to grow towards a window, and then droops with the weight of her heart. Her shoulders hitch and her eyes go pink, shimmering with tears.

"I really mean it, we gotcha. Val knows the party inside-out an' ain't no one gonna hear hide nor tail of this with her around. We'll just tell 'em you weren't feelin' well."

Miss Macie's spine goes rod-straight and she looks over her shoulder nervously in spite of herself. Anger and sorrow shift across her face as she struggles to force down the hiccups and sobs that have begun to rattle her ribs. She inches forward like a child at the edge of a diving board. 

"I --" She sighs. "Well, what 'm I supposed to do then?"

"Nothin' right now. Nothin' at all."

Akio bends a knee just so he can look up at her. It's impossible for Val or Anthy to see what he lets Miss Macie see, but the storm clouds in her heart take pause. 

He wraps his arms around her and squeezes. When she stills, he know he's halfway in the clear.

"Now you stay for just a breath, I need to attend to somethin'." He announces, and starts headed towards the parlor room where there's a functional phone set up on the coffee table next to two sets of reading chairs.

Akio enters without so much as glancing at the phone. He doesn't need to call the cab boy, because Akio made him aware hours before they departed that Anthy would need a pickup right outside the estate at precisely 10:23 PM. The young man is a loyal lamb among Akio's herd, and a silent one to boot. He might be momentarily puzzled to see two different guests in the car, but Akio has shown the young man far more astonishing sights so what's the harm in one more show? 

Instead, he hunches down towards a mirror in the corner and tilts his collar in that funny way that always makes Miss Green reach up to straighten him out. He smolders at his reflection and sees a connoisseur of fantasies. No, he thinks -- he sees a kind smile in a verdant garden, a prince on a white horse. He tells himself he's caught a glimpse of Dios, and it feels so close to the truth that he can't tell if it's a lie.

And it isn't.

In his reflection, a flash of lavender and displeasure ripples behind his shoulder.

"Wait your turn." Akio teases.

He turns to leave. The room, to the eyes of a hypothetical passerby, is empty.

The scene is just as he left it. Every major player is still on their marks, anxiously awaiting direction. Anthy begins to droop, clearly bored.

"I'm sorry to burden you, Miss Val." Anthy whispers.

Val bristles, and hoists Anthy up an inch further.

Akio strolls in. His left hand brushes Val's arm. His right taps Anthy's palm twice before drawing a circle inside with his fingerprints.

"She's good to go, Val, cab should be outside in three."

With a smile and thanks, the two walk off. Val halts.

"Y'not coming with us?"

"Cab can only seat three -- driver and two ladies. Can't let Miss Green walk 'round this time of the night all by her lonesome."

"Right, right..."

Akio smiles.

"You don't mind if I steal her for the evening?"

Val shrugs and walks.

"Sure, go right ahead."

On that note, the girls walk off to the cab, leaving Akio and Miss Macie Green functionally alone in a crowded room.

Akio settles a gentle hand on her shoulder and quietly ushers her out of the party. Miss Macie is fuming in anxious embarrassment like a stewed tomato. 

"Let's just getcha home, Miss Green. I called another cab some time ago, should be right outside any minute now."

"I'll walk." She seethes. And she does. 

She strides off through wide open town squares and past the warm brick of buildings. Akio matches her stomping zigs and zags down every random corner with long, graceful steps. He notices the cross streets and pops out in front of Miss Macie, just in case the clicks of his gunmetal calfskins on the pavement weren't noticeable. 

"Mind if I follow?" Akio asks as they approach the fifth block.

"No, god- _dammit_ boy!" Macie reels back in frustration, but halts at the crossroads. "I - just let me be, I just -- I just..." 

The windows in every nearby building go pitch black. The street lamps blink out. 

Miss Macie stops breathing.

All of Akio's attention is trained on her. In the space between her shock and the reaction, he is gripped by time itself. In the dark of the night, the stars, he would quietly insist to himself, had all descended down to encircle Macie's moonless frame. His quickening heartbeat creeps up and pulses in his ears. His whole world teeters on the tip of a needle.

An enormous, metallic boom suddenly thunders through the streets and alleys. Macie jumps. Under the cacophony of clattering tin, Akio strains and swears he can hear a thread snap. 

Macie collapses to her knees into a sobbing fit, at first in stuttering gulps and then all at once into great lamentations. She clutches at her own arms as if to hug herself. Akio slowly strides forward. As he approaches, her pitiful moans start to form into garbled, wailing words.

"S'too much, s'too -- too much. My Marshall, my... _God--_ can't do this all on my own, oh god, I can't do nothin' without help, stupid -- M'no good without Val, she's gonna go run off on that college scheme or get hitched with some man soon, oh g-god..." 

Akio can barely school the grin that threatens to tear through his cheeks. Up ahead, he can see the headlights of the cab headed back their way. He shifts his hat and coat, bunching up the fabric to alter the silhouette. The cab driver won't recognize either of them when he passes.

Macie flinches when she recognizes the sound. The street goes cold with the blinding light of the motor carriage when all at once, Akio picks her up with a shout and shields her with his back to the clattering beast. 

The ensuing gust whips at their coats. Gutter water splashes up at them. As quickly as it appeared, the motor carriage rounds the corner and vanishes.

Akio craddles Macie's shivering body, slowly prying an arm out of her grip to retrieve a matchbox in his coat pocket. 

He doesn't have to turn around to know that Anthy's watching them. Akio would scoff at her lack of trust if he didn't know damn well why she would linger.

"C'mere, let me check you now." He murmurs.

He strikes a match against the red strip on the box. Suddenly, warmth illuminates the crossroads and every stuttering shadow is cast by his hand, framing him at the center. 

Macie peers up from her knees, splattered in muck with tacky new tracks now drying to her rosy cheeks. Akio tucks the hair out of her eyes and brushes a streak of gray water off of her temple.

"S'nothin' that a dry cleaning and a bath won't cure." He whispers.

The wellspring of panic and grief behind her eyes has dried up. With a sigh, Macie deflates into Akio's arms, fully spent. Every touch comes without hesitance or resistance. He plays it safe. He rubs her back in soothing circles.

"Oh Macie..." Akio coos, "Oh _Macie,_ hush now..." He kneels down and gathers her up in his arms. His smile finally cracks out and leaks all over the cloying tone in his voice. 

"Macie, you've been so good to us, worked yourself down to nothin' out here. You deserve more than this."

The streetlamps flicker back to life.

"Please, let me help you." 

She says not a word. Her eyes gleam and with silent acceptance, Macie embraces Akio with the tenderness of a surrender. He waits out the match as it burns down to his fingers.

The night sky rises as if in waves, engulfing them both. The stars dance.


	8. Chapter 8

The help had gathered around when Val, Miss Green, and the siblings had left. Peace in that house was a moment without expectations and this occasion was nothing short of divine.

The girls cheered on Winona to tell them a story. Her husband was a storied scholar in France before he came back to tend to his father and they both got dragged under. She loved him for that.

She sat down and plucked a fair white flower off a bush by the river. 

_Long ago, in ancient Greece, there were born a set of twins: Dareios and Datura._

_Born from the forbidden union of a Trojan soldier and an Achaean acolyte, their mother offered everything she had to give in the hopes that Hera would smile upon them. Finally, their mother spilt her blood in service to Hera and hearing her cries, Hera blessed the twins to always seem impervious. They could feel the pain of their wounds and respond wisely when injured, but to onlookers, their flesh would seem untorn. With this, Datura would be a perfect mother and Dareios would become a legendary warrior._

_Instead, after the death of their parents, the twins grew up to become party tricks. For coin and food, passerby were invited to prick them with thorns and thrash them with switches to see if they could possibly make Dareios or Datura bleed. Still, no matter what absurd lengths the crowd took to harm them, their flesh was still as smooth and undisturbed as marble. However, Datura often groaned in agony and found herself paralyzed with pain after so many displays. Dareios, who relished in showing off, would invite bystanders to hurt him instead. He became renowned far and wide for his strength, and men would soothe him with praise and wine for his troubles._

_One afternoon at a play, an Athenean politician went too far. Slighted by the young man's goading to hurt him, the politician and his men suspected that the boy would become a threat to their ascension to power. Petty and curious, the politician and two of his men plunged three broadswords straight through the proud boy's spine. Though his body was left whole and pristine, Dareios died on the spot. Datura was so overwhelmed with grief that she threw the actors' wine reserves to the ground. In a rage, she seized a smoking pipe and set the stage on fire, as well as herself. Like a woman possessed, she thrashed her delicate arms into the crowd, goading them into killing her, but the crowd mistook her for an angered Goddess and they all fled. Datura, filled with sorrow, jumped into a nearby river._

_When she awoke, it was on the shores of a retired orator's dwelling place. Though she was badly burned, the water had saved her from dying. He knelt down and brushed the hair from her tearful eyes._

_"I see that boundless pain in your eyes," The orator said. "I weep for you, as I too have lost those closest to me. Come inside and let me shelter you."_

_His name was Arkadios. Though a charming and intelligent man, he fainted at the sight of violence and couldn't bear to leave his home after his wife had passed away until he saw Datura seemingly dead on his shores._

_Without seeing Datura's wounds, neither he nor his physician could treat her burns and so he locked her in a secret room to conceal her from anything that could possibly harm her._

_There, Datura's spirit faltered and she grew sick with her grief. She longed to feel the searing warmth of the sun or the boundless pull of the river she fell in. After weeks, she could bear no more and thrashed at the door. Arkadios would not relent, but after hours of screaming and attacking the door, the door finally did. Datura hurled a pot at the entrance and to her horror, the pot exploded into shards upon impact._

_Arkadios looked down at Datura. Though she had not a scratch or bruise on her fair body, she was writhing in unbearable pain. He found himself so at ease with a person suffering without blood or bruises that a new emotion took hold at this sight. He seized Datura and took her up to his room, planning to make her his new bride._

_On the morning of the wedding, Arkadios stared on, hypnotized, at his captive bride with a knife in his hand. As both the groom and officiator, he swore to adore Datura until the end of their days. Then he drew her up forcibly into a kiss before he savored the sight of himself slowly plunging the blade into her body. As she died, Datura pledged her soul to Hera, the goddess who gave her and Dareio's gift in the beginning. Angered at these events, Hera transformed Datura into a carpet of delicate white flowers. Arkadios suddenly felt his chest seize up. Though he felt Datura's dead and perfect body in his arms, there she stood across the room, wreathed in flames and reaching towards him. In his fearful daze, Arkadios ran. His reason became engulfed by fear and in his haste, he toppled from his window into the sea, where he drowned. Datura's flowers overtook the abode and live there to this day._

_From hereafter, Datura lives on, both in name and in spirit, as the delicate flower that heralds madness._

Winona savored the warmth in her chest. She silently thanked her husband for talking her ear off about his studies throughout their life together. The other workers nodded solemnly and raised a toast. 

As the last of them cleaned up, Winona froze and could've sworn she heard the far off wailing of a woman.


	9. Chapter 9

Anthy's head lolls against the frame of the motor carriage window. Glowing streetlamps, snake oil advertisements, and intimate groups of lost partygoers flash against her glasses like a film reel up against the lens of a projector. Val is tight as piano wire in her seat, limbs folded up prim and proper to look as polite as possible away from Anthy. The cab boy's worked this job too long to butt in, but only Anthy has the experience to completely shut out the air of tension that hangs thick in the vehicle. 

But she doesn't. She lets her wisdom fall away from her. She can feel Val breathing against the carriage seat they share. Her lungs are heavy with the poorly suppressed thrum of displeasure and quiet panic. 

It's curious, Anthy thinks, that Akio hasn't prodded Val lately. She looks in the reflection of the window and stares at their prey. The word "delicate" offers itself to Anthy as a suitable antonym to Val's features, but that's not quite right. Val is self possessed in her presentation, feminine with the physical edge of someone used to manual labor, although not without vulnerability. No one, in Anthy's experience, has ever been without some kind of weakness.

She wears a mask of absentmindedness as she palms the cool, plush leather of the seat. She looks in the window. Val keeps staring straight ahead. Anthy resists the impulse to grin and creeps her fingers closer to Val's leg. 

"Miss Valerie..?" She whispers, childlike.

Val jumps so high at the honorific that her head hits the roof of the carriage.

"Damn..." Val scoots away and only meets Anthy's eyes in the reflection of the car window.

"What, whatchu need?" She asks. 

"Well, Miss Val..." Anthy murmurs, voice and gaze soft at the floor until she looks up through her own doe-like eyelashes. 

"Would you... help me get off?"

In an instant, the reflection is lost. Val scrambles to acknowledge the real thing, to know that it was real. Her eyes are black with all pupil. Every muscle is tight and drawn in. Then Anthy flicks her gaze over to the carriage door with her wounded ankle propped up within Val's line of sight. The color drains out of Val's rose-pink face, leaving only sober shame and an undercurrent of irritation. She retreats back to the window and can't bring herself to say much for a while.

"You _really_ still hobblin'?" Val grumbles.

Anthy nods, stroking her knee. 

"Yes, but... it's.. it's okay, I think I can --"

She squeals as she pushes her leg down into the floor, twerking her ankle sideways. Val doesn't turn around, but her eyes are still glued to the window. Anthy sighs.

"I really must apologize for being a burden on --"

"If you say that _one more time..._ " Val grits through her teeth. 

When Anthy attempts to open her mouth again, Val tisks, then leans into the driver's space.

"Beaty, make a right here." She says.

The shortcut earns back the ten minutes of time they lost stuck behind a sudden barricade set up by the local sheriff. The cops had hollered something about a runaway horse that bore a funny resemblance to a stallion that had bounded up to Anthy as friendly as a pet dog one day in the fields. Anthy rests her head against the window again and finds that they've already arrived at the Green house. When Val marches up and offers her hand, Anthy bows her head before daintily taking it. She plays her role with the quiet, pitiful sweetness of a wounded doe all the way up until Val closes the door behind them in the foyer.

Nearby, Winona walks in from the garden, lost in thought with a vague look of dread on her face.

"Ah, Winona." Val chirps, unbothered. "S'ma back?"

"Ah nah miss, she's still out with ya sweetheart." Winona mutters.

"Ain't my sweetheart, so you can stop spreading _that_ around after hours."

Val goes to hang her coat up, then frowns.

"What were they out about again?"

"...Whatchu mean?" Winona frowns, "There was that whole party that --"

"No no, that was _weeks_ ago. Don'tchu remember anything they said at breakfast this morning?"

They both pause frowning.

"L'see... this morning, Gerald made coffee with some hash browns and eggs. Someone coughed into the grits, had to give 'em a _talkin'_ to --"

Winona's eye twitches. She turns away, unwilling to retrace those steps.

"Got the mail, pickled some rosehips --" Val slaps her hands together. "Right! Okay, never mind, I remember now."

"Glad you do." Winona muttered. "All's done today. Good night Miss Valerie."

"Good night, Winona!" Anthy coos. Winona snaps still and glares at Anthy's tight smile. The miasma of trimmed grass and honeysuckle chokes out all the air in the room between the two of them until Winona looks over at Valerie, who is preoccupied with brushing some stray dirt off of her coat. Winona sighs and without sparing another glance in Anthy's direction, she shuffles out of the room.

"So odd, it was weeks ago..." Valerie muttered. She picks up the candelabra at the entryway and lights the scented wick of the candle at its center.

As they both trudge up the stairs, Anthy notices Val linger behind after she's done being Anthy's crutch. Anthy exaggerates the limp once more and walks slowly, so slowly up to her bedroom for the last word she knows is about to come.

"Miss Anthy."

Now that's a first. Anthy's heart sharpens at the honorific. She takes a moment before addressing Val to steel herself in bitter glee for the possibility of violence. When she turns, their noses practically touch and Anthy's showgirl smile pops off of her face, leaving only wide eyed surprise. 

Val flinches back like someone cracked a whip at her. Her eyes snap to a high corner of wallpaper that's begun to peel. There's a tense silence that seems to stretch on as if it could outlast the era.

"M'sorry if I made you feel like a burden." 

There's a series of visible swallows, as if Val is physically trying to hold back the excuses and justifications that want so badly to burst forward.

Anthy stays perfectly silent. Right at the point where she can feel Val's eyes widen with angry confusion, perhaps to snap at her for expecting more, Anthy smiles.

"Okay!" Anthy chirps.

The flame flickers. Val clams up. Like a rusted machine set back in motion, her head stutters to nod and in spite of herself, the floodgate opens.

"Yeah, well... y-y'know, I'll make it up to you! I'll show ya how to cook breakfast tomorrow -- real nice food, somethin' good and wife-like 'nstead a just cookies. A-and y'know, there's this trick I did when I was on crutches back in grade school, real life saver! It'll get you places in half the time with half the trouble!"

Val is nearly breathless as she stops herself. The flame is still on the wick, a cool orange-white that burns down to the nub. 

"Thanks!" Anthy says.

A drop of wax hits the floor.

"I mean... what, you're not gonna say anything else?" 

"Like what?"

"I mean --" As Val grapples for words, her face runs hot and the corners of her mouth curl down into an embarrassed snarl. "I mean, why would you just leave it there? Don't you not wanna be a burden? I mean, you got so much talent. Great gardener, sweet demeanor, s'just -- s'just _wasted_ actin' like ya' brother's your keeper and that's just that with your life!"

"Ah," Anthy pauses, letting the tension in the air ferment into a hearty buzz until she clasps both hands oh-so-pretty in front of her and chirps again: "Okay!" 

Val's jaw hangs open.

"Well?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Anthy murmurs, head cocked and eyes wide.

"Wh - I _just_ \--!!" 

Val looks away to suck air through her clenched teeth. When she looks back at Anthy, the young woman's head is tipped down in what seems to be... penance? Shame? Anthy glances up with her glasses hanging precariously low on her nose. Her emerald eyes glow dull with something unspeakable there in the dark.

"I'm sorry to --"

Val stomps quickly up to her own room, taking the light with her. The flame scrapes against her outfit from the speed and when she makes it to her door, her chest is heaving to fill her lungs back up. Once her breath returns to her, she draws one more in so she can blow out the candle. She hesitates, realizing how dark it is and that Anthy cannot walk up to her room with only one leg. The concern is quickly replaced with anger and echoes of Anthy responding to her gestures: "okay."

"If y'so fuckin' happy 'bout it, just walk in the dark then." She hisses.

"It's okay, I like the dark!"

Val flinches, hard enough that the lit candle nearly topples out of the candelabra. Anthy stands behind her without a hair out of place. When Val finally registers what was said, she can't help but lean in with bewilderment.

"Why would you..?" Val's eyelids clamp down.

She drops the sentence. Val sets down the candelabra on a nearby end table, still lit. She frowns at it with a furrowed brow. When she tips her head back to sigh, her forehead is knotted together. In the glow of the candlelight, the muscles look like the stubs of horns. They seem larger than when they first met.

"You _sure_ you don't need a light." Val tells the ceiling without asking. "You're not gonna trip and screw up ya' damn leg again."

Anthy nods, knowing Val doesn't have eyes in the back of her head.

Finally, Val turns from her bedroom door, measured and spiteful. She raises her hand and crooks one outstretched finger over to the weathered door besides Akio's dwelling place.

"...Your room's back there." She says slowly. 

"Ah," Anthy says, glancing behind her with wide eyes. "Well, I'm sure sorry to bother you Miss --"

Val throws the door open. 

"Good- _night!"_ She hollers. She slams the door shut, shaking the portraits all hung up on the walls. 

All goes silent. In the empty, absolute darkness of the manor, the white noise is deafening with all that goes unspoken. The cool gold of the candelabra's base still holds the residual warmth from Val's hand when she picks it back up, quiet as the dead. Anthy takes it in, then drifts back downstairs, ghostlike. The candle flickers back to life in her hands.

When she reappears back on the streets, no one notices her. On their journeys back from illicit trysts, tavern visits, and clandestine business meetings, they are overwhelmed with a freezing dread that urges them not turn their gaze towards her direction. Those that do dare to peek find a shadow cast from across the street with no owner. Few of them dare to stick around after that.

At the intersection of Dumaine and Decatur, she stops and hears the soft white noise of water. Anthy glances to the east and finds herself a stone's throw away from the Mississippi river. The briny air licks at the candle flame. Giggles and snickers bubble up from the mouth of Madison street. 

In walks Miss Macie Green, arm in arm with Anthy's cheerful, loose limbed brother. Macie is flushed a sweet, giddy pink and her shoulders heave with laughter. Clutched loose in her hand is an odd-looking kewpie doll, several shades darker than the standard peach kind seen in the town's shop windows. 

"He really wanted us to think this is cursed! What kinda trade partner goes 'round wantin' their supplier to think he's cursin' em?" 

"It is quite the eccentricity." 

"He coulda just gave 'em to me, I woulda took it 'thout the rigmarole." Miss Macie coos, pressing the doll up to her cheek. "Oh, I _love_ these lil' pumpkins, they're so _cute!"_

"Maybe it'll turn into a good luck charm, just from you loving it enough." 

"Tsk!" Miss Macie swats him. "Ah you 'n the desis... s'that how magic works 'round there?"

"It's been a long time since me and Anthy have visited Burma. Can't say I'm a fan of their philosophy. The Russians though... they were interesting."

"What about 'em?"

"I visited Astrakhan for a conference one winter. I was deeply involved in academia at the time and there was a professor who claimed that he could coax seeds to their fullest harvest through divining the positions of the stars."

Miss Macie's eyebrows quirked up.

"Did th'ever find out how?"

Akio shook his head with a chuckle.

"He disappeared quite soon after! Ah, but I digress, as something else had caught my attention. You see, occultists had come to hear him speak." 

His accent is slipping. He coughs, then looks away with a wry smile. 

"Well, it pains me to admit to bein' nosey, but I eavesdropped on 'em. They talked about all manner of things: this witchy woman called Madame Blavatsky, how magic's s'posed to flow through this world like the bends and forks of a massive river, even ghosts came up in conversation. I almost let it slide off 'til they started in on how regular people use magic every day."

Miss Macie is practically at an incline, eyes wide as saucers to hear just what Akio wants her to.

"They just believe in somethin' hard enough." Akio sighs. "They let the wish consume them, heart and soul and mind, and it changes the world around them. Ain't that crazy? I guess some people can really throw themselves off track if they believe in something they didn't wanna be true, like sickness or failure. S'pose that's the Russians for ya."

Miss Macie goes solemn, lost in thought as she nods to the statement.

"I can't say that's my favorite kinda magic," He goes on. "But it's sure been helpful to me in life. Real motivating to know that if you think about somethin' enough, your thoughts can have that kinda power." 

"Yeah... yeah, damn, I like that!" Miss Macie says. "Power of the human spirit, in a way, ain't it?"

Before she can set off on a proper tangent, Akio looks sidelong at her with heavily lidded eyes.

"Between you and me..." He tilts his head and smiles. "I always thought that voodoo was more fun." 

Miss Macie squeals in joy as she shoves him without force. 

"You _would_ say that, rotten boy!" 

They laugh and laugh among themselves as if they're the only two people in the world. It is only when their chuckles taper off that a motor carriage rounds the corner towards them. Miss Macie visibly flinches.

From her view in the alleyway, Anthy sees Akio's hand snake around Miss Macie's hip.

"C'mon madame, les' git." 

One foot steps inside, then stops.

"Wait."

There is a pause.

"Them papers," She starts, "I gotta pull up to the attorney tomorrow to --"

"Dispute the service fee? I did. Got a lil' somethin' out of the four-eyed one at the end while we were on our way out."

Miss Macie's face goes dark. Akio grins.

"No charge against us." He says.

Her mouth falls agape. As shrewd as Mister Green was in trade matters, he would've never slipped out of such an obligation in such a short window of time without legal consultation.

"Wasn't free exactly, but that's all on my head to handle."

Without breaking eye contact or much conscious thought to the choice at all, Miss Macie hops into the backseat. 

"Y'lyin." She whispers breathless. 

"Y'deserve more." He says softly. "Said it once and I'll say it again with the extra cash to prove it. I'm only happy that you gave me the chance to help." 

Miss Macie is frozen, still as the dead when Akio leans in. 

"Whatcha thinkin' bout your mister?"

Her mouth is a thin line that she strains to quirk up at the corners. 

"Silly boy..." Miss Macie attempts a playful slap that gives out halfway through into a clumsy caress. Her halfhearted smile falls, as does the visible fear. 

"I ain't thinkin' nothin'." She murmurs. 

The atmosphere is warm and heavy when Miss Macie unfolds her graceless hand to beckon Akio towards her. 

"C'mon, boy. Help me." 

In the darkest corners of the French Quarters, a grinning bachelor dives into the backseat of his occupied carriage. Anthy grips her silks. The candelabra in her left hand feels like the weight of the universe.


	10. Chapter 10

Inevitably, news of Mr. Green's death arrives at the plantation. Miss Macie Green is saddened, but stoic and outwardly optimistic, as if she had been steeled against this outcome long before her husband had left on business. Akio slides into the management role like the path was greased up just for him. There are, of course, ripples of horror through the other business owners. 

"What's a desi," they ask amongst themselves, "Doin' runnin' this place? And such a _dark_ one too."

But they dissipate like smoke in good time. The desi boy -- no, his name is Akio, they gradually come to agree -- he fits in fine enough for now. His damn sister makes their skin crawl, but he's smart and charming as newly pressed suit. He'll be just fine. The funeral is what matters, anyhow. 

It comes a week later after all the arrangements have been made and Val finally finds the strength to pick out a casket at the funeral parlor without screaming. Akio holds her hand the whole day there. He makes no apologies or simpering coos remarking how strong she is for doing what needs to be done, he just smiles at the staff and squeezes her hand. They even have the time to pick out flowers. She requests wild white roses, for her father's time in the Black Hills expedition. When the bouquet comes, she's visibly transported to a time far away from the present. The lines of frustration in her brow are smoothed, eyes wide with the miracle of a fantastic rose plucked just for her by her dear old daddy, and rough working hands are made small again with the loose yet dainty grasp she has to hold her precious memory. The funeral home director asks her if she would like to change the color of the coffin to better match the flowers she's chosen. Val crushes the stems and storms out to keep from crying in public. 

Akio is beside her in the corner of the lobby, offering quiet comfort. He doesn't have to make a move yet. Miss Macie is still in his pocket and the Greens got a new maid, a spindly teenager painted in dirt and ash whenever they cross paths who keeps making shy glances his way. Even if both of them disappeared without a trace next week, he'd still have Anthy to tide over his appetites until Val is good and ready.

On the day of the funeral, Anthy is tense in his grip. He buttons his own shirt and watches in the mirror as she wraps the eyelets of lace on her dress around her finger. She lays undressed on the unmade covers with her wild hair sprawled over the pillows. 

Akio sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. He runs his hands through Anthy's hair and lightly mimics Anthy's twisting motions.

"Such a delicate doll." He murmurs, "I suppose it's odd but when you're like this, you remind me of our time in the Netherlands. Do you remember?"

Anthy nestles her face more deeply into the pillow and closes her eyes. Yes, he sees, she remembers. 

"You may have forgotten, but there was that silver and sapphire telescope in Germany. The light caught my eye in the shop window, and I know it did yours too, but times were busy then and I told you it was a waste of luggage space. My eyes were fine enough, I told myself."

He lets the rest of his body fall back over the bed, trapping Anthy's legs underneath his weight. He folds his hands behind his neck and sighs, troubled. 

"I couldn't guess how you were feeling from your expression back then, but looking back, I would have been disappointed." Akio says.

Anthy stops twisting. She turns her head to the ceiling, but her eyes remain shut.

"The night after that," He says, "I was on the veranda and happened to glance up at the stars. Our host came out too and she gasped when she pulled out her telescope, but I couldn't see it. The smog of the nearby wildfires obscured my view. I ducked back inside to find a looking glass but by the time I realized the search was fruitless, it was far too late."

He rolls his body towards the foot of the bed and bends down to open his suitcase.

"I had missed a supernova," He says. "A star had collapsed in on its own weight and before my blinded eyes, it had become something completely new. Something brilliant and powerful."

Akio produces a retractable handheld telescope from his luggage. The telescope's silver is so clean that it looks new for an antique. Akio savors the weight in his hands and draws out the full body. One large, flashy inlay glitters ultramarine at the top of the largest section. 

"It pains me to have missed such a miracle." Akio sighs. "Still, I now realize the importance of tools."

Akio gets up and walks over to Anthy so he can set his telescope on the nightstand near her. She finally opens her eyes up to him.

"Shall we go?" He asks. 

She stares at him, searching, until her eyes soften. She nods. They get dressed.

The funeral is a characteristically somber affair for all but the businessmen, who keenly discuss new tariffs and contractual obligations in between diplomatically consoling distraught family members they've never met before. Akio sees the tightrope he must walk and gravitates to Val, who is nursing a Sazerac close to her chest in the hopes that everyone else will just see a simple, watered down whiskey on the rocks. 

From there, he carries her through the affairs and picks up Miss Macie on the way. All the while, Anthy stays in the corner looking sorrowful and sweet to the men who have come by to pay their respects. As the event begins to stretch into a chore, Akio takes Miss Macie aside in the hallway and whispers in her ear that there's nothing to fret about, that he's got things all locked up and that she can go tend to herself now that the guests are about to wind down. She nods and gives a kiss to her dead husband's casket before smiling at Akio with all the untethered joy of a schoolgirl passing by her darling teacher. When he returns to Val and ushers her to follow him out of the parlor, she's halfway through another Sazerac and a hair's breath away from swaying where she stands. If any of the guests were paying more attention, they would see how she wobbles when she walks out.

Akio reaches to take the Sazerac, caressing her hand as they both hold onto the glass.

"Y'don't gotta finish that." Akio says.

Val studies her drink for one second and another three memorizing the image of Akio's hand over hers. She lets Akio take it. He nods without smiling and turns his back to her when he knocks it all back. It goes down as smoothly as barbed wire. They don't speak or turn to acknowledge each other for a while.

"They're all leavin' in ten." Akio tells her. "Weather's bad now so we'll all hafta get up early to put him down." 

She flexes the hand that once carried the drink.

"God's got good... timing." Val mutters, then frowns with reddening eyes. "I'm sorry, I -- I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Like a glacier collapsing, she crumbles bit by bit before falling into him all at once in shuddering sobs. As Akio cradles her to his body, her weeping turns to tearful giggles. He brushes a lock of hair from her eyes to see disbelief living in the space between grief and joy.

"You're -- you're wonderful." She croaks. "M'mad he won't ever see that. He'd have liked you so much that he'd hate you. Two of you would've gone at each other like wet cats, we'd have loved it."

Akio chuckles, in spite of himself, and squeezes her tighter as they both laugh two doors down from a funeral. 

"Ah, dunno what got over me here, I --" Val stops and finally grins up at him, their noses touching. The aura of warmth from her body and the gentle puffs of boozy breath on his skin are a heady reminder that this is no doll but a living person in his arms. Akio puts his hand on her shoulder, sliding up to tangle his fingers in her hair. He lightly twists the strands around his fingers. He summons a smile and closes the gap.

They lock lips. A door unlocks. The gear and wheels of a far-off machine shudder and surge forward.


	11. Chapter 11

Time becomes an ouroboros from there on out. It's not that events repeat themselves or that people forget their past -- the characters just don't ever change. The days are like scripted jazz: sometimes they're unique enough to be dissimilar from a carbon copy, maybe with a couple sticky bits to keep Anthy busy, but as a whole, it's all artificial and uninteresting. 

Val has become too humdrum to play with. The honeymoon phase thinned out into a quiet hum of egotistical contentment when Anthy wasn't looking. Miss Green drifts through life in a rose-colored haze. More often, she's found kneeling at her bedside with a smile and loosely clasped rosary beads. On a few occasions, Val slams the doors on her and quietly fumes to Akio how stupid her mother's newfound superstition is, though she never raises her voice enough to let the help hear. On rare nights, she lets herself go in the safety of their unlit room and buries her hot face into the warm shoulder of her boyfriend to hide her tears. 

Anthy can't pick at it. The command was kissed and murmured into her breast as she was sprawled out under the bedroom window, praying for the pink light of sunrise to save them both from the moment. That fertile land of Valerie's heart is his to sow alone and her weeds do not yet have a place in his design. She stands in the kitchen gripping handfuls of salt out an open bag and letting the crystals run out of her fist. 

The help have stopped confronting Anthy, even when the wild roses burrow under the greenhouse one morning and bring down sixteen square feet of the plantation's indigo flowers. Miss Green and the other working ladies are docile now, as all of the women that fall into his bed become in due time. Val starts wearing her blush quite generously, as if to immortalize the innocent virgin glow she held when she first stepped out to a crowd with her ringed hand engulfed in his. The only garden tools she touches are for harvesting kitchen herbs. Anthy feels it all in her hand, first full and taut, then dry and empty. 

The grains of salt tumble out of her hands as the light slides off the sharp, miniscule edges. Anthy wants to see a star collapse too.

Almost as an afterthought, Akio peers up from the paper one morning and turns to Val. 

"We should host an engagement party." He says. 

Val straightens the bow on her smart lavender apron and quirks an eyebrow. 

"S'Been a while since we had some kinda get-together." Akio shrugs. "Bet the family'd appreciate a party for a change of pace." 

Val's eyes go soft at the window behind him. She bows her head and silently mouths 'a change of pace' like an incantation that can dispel the visions of caskets and tombstones that they are both, for their own reasons, attempting to will away.

"We could show off the garden. The roses're back, that's always due to..."

Akio mentally sees the white roses laid upon her father's coffin as Val drifts off. He unfolds his long legs to get up from the recliner.

"You just haunt this house these days." Akio tuts. "Day and night, you're up on these grounds. If y'ain't in the kitchen, y'out in the garden. If y'ain't in the garden, you're up here readin'. If y'ain't readin', y'dead in my bed."

The newspaper falls to the coffee table as he struts up to his fiancee.

"C'mon, now that's -- " The protest dies in her mouth.

Akio sighs and paints on a loving smile. As he envelops her hand in his, he gently rests his forehead against hers.

"C'mon, now that's _true_. C'mon honey. Let's do what married folk do. I'll doll you up, we'll all take you somewhere nice."

He ropes an arm around her waist and he swings her his way to sway them both along to some imperceptible music. She can hear a sweet, slow rhythm in her mind guiding them through a throng of imaginary dancers. Her forehead is tucked under his chin with her cheek pressed against his chest and a soft, girlish sigh floating out from the gentle rhythm of their movements. With no other words spoken between them, he knows she'll agree to anything he has to propose tomorrow. 

It's too early to rope Miss Macie into naming him the beneficiary, Akio thinks as Val's engagement ring sparkles a brilliant pink. Maybe next week or even maybe next month, he'll get Miss Macie gassed up on that magic thinking and urge her to prepare for their future together. After that, he can't decide if he'd rather rush the wedding or make Val a proper fairytale princess and officially orphan her. Of course, that leaves the maid locked out of the Cinderella fantasy, but it's easy to trick the young ones into thinking that betrothal is all for a noble duty so they will cling to his hip in anticipation for the first sign of potential rebellion.

That just leaves Anthy. 

In his mind's eye, he sees the thorns growing taller out of her. Her impatience inches forward a little further every day, growing sharp and hungry in its voracity. He suspects that her heart is set on ripping Valerie open, but it's not yet time and he knows that he can't play the utilitarian card again if he continues to dawdle. He thought the help would make suitable chew toys, but they aren't biting and neither is his darling little witch. 

He rests his chin atop Valerie's head and lets his eyes slip shut. He sees the hems of ladies' hobble skirts ripple and fly in whirlpools of fabric, dancing hand in hand with loving princes. He sees strapping businessmen painted into their crisp, high collar suits kissing his hand. He sees New Orleans pulsing, alive, glittering with the kind of light, wine, and lascivious beauty that engulfs him whole. He can't see Anthy as anything more than the shadow of a little girl he once knew, lurking in some darkened corner like an old smear of blood on the wall of a new home. 

When Akio opens his eyes, Anthy is standing in the doorway across the room. 

He raises a single finger up and mouths his words: "I'll be there soon."

He expects her to nod with that same, sorrowful look on her face that usually comes about when he's denied her too long and walk away. She doesn't. 

She turns her back to him and with her hands clasped behind her, she starts to sway like a daisy in the wind. Her feet soundlessly step from side to side in a mock waltz, leading without touching her imaginary partner. The shadow beneath her grows from a small outline around her shoes to a deep lightless puddle as she rises from the floor. In the back of his mind, he swears he can hear her hum a tune as old as the invention of paper, a melody he thought he had long since forgotten. She locks eyes with Akio. As her performance descends back down to earth, the smallest smile twitches from the corners of her mouth.

A floorboard creaks.

Val flinches in Akio's arms and when she scrambles to leave them, Anthy is perfectly composed at the edge of the frame with startled, perplexed doe eyes. He feels the tug to play along, to flip his expression up in surprise and remain the perfect co-star, but he knows that this play does not serve either of them in the long run. 

"Ah, hello?" Anthy coos, voice as clear and cute as a bell.

"Anthy!" Val stutters. "S'uh, somethin' you need?"

Clasped behind Anthy's back is an old man's pair of eyeglasses. The left arm is twisted, reaching out for someone to take it. She eagerly traces the rim of the lenses, moving to bring it forward into Val's vision.

"Well, I didn't mean to --"

"We'll talk about it later." He says. He keeps Val pressed up to him. 

Anthy's mask slips and unwittingly becomes a true expression. 

"Just give us some time." 

There is no question or offer in his tone. The glasses haven't appeared yet, perhaps never appearing to the daughter of its unfortunate owner. Anthy nods and puts on a new face, one more neutral and filled with peaceful understanding. With a silent curtsy, she sees herself out. Immediately, Val huddles closer to her fiancé's chest.

"Y'okay? Wuzzat about?"

Akio looks down at her with a smile.

"Did somethin' seem amiss?"

Val frowns, darting her eyes back to the place where the witch had stood as if to dispel the vision. Akio sighs, hugs her, and tucks his chin back over her head.

"Ah... suppose it's siblin' quarrels," He drawls, petting her hair. "Don'tchu worry honey, it'll pass."

They stand still in the center of the room. Akio grimaces at the slippery smooth glide of Val's rod-straight hair. His fingers ache for the familiar snag of curls he's known all his life. Chasing after Anthy after that show of petulance would just give her what she wants, so that won't do. The maid with the big eyes and wild hair, he thinks, that'd scratch the itch while Anthy is clawing at the door for his attention. After Val, the maid. After the maid, he'll give Miss Macie the guru play. After Macie, Anthy. 

He preens in his own skill at forming such prurient liaisons, even when his confidante won't cooperate. An idea creeps up on him. He smiles and holds Val tight, swaying his hips.

"How'd you like to go dancin'?"


End file.
